Partnership, Relationship, Friendship, Brotherment?

Names matter. And sometimes a word or label carries more than we think. This became abundantly clear last week for a group of pastors and church leaders who have a relationship among their three churches in León and one church in Canada.

In English, we have been calling this relationship among churches a "partnership." This word gives the idea of equal parties sharing a relationship, working together for a final goal. However, it also carries feelings of business, money, projects, goals and structure. In Spanish, there is no word for partnership, but we use "hermanomiento." Turns out that this word also carries these ideas of goals, structure, money, projects, etc.

This isn't exactly the way to describe what these churches have. Their relationship has been based on prayer primarily. Over the past four years, the church in Canada has been getting to know the leaders and church programs of the churches in León.  They have been exchanging prayer requests. The Sunday school kids have been praying for each other (some are pictured below).

In other words, they have been becoming friends. Even on this trip, they shared pictures with each other, talked about their lives, and prayed for each other.

When I came in January, I became a part of this partnership group. Because I live in León, my colleagues at the Nehemiah Center asked me to visit the León churches and get to know their pastors and members more in preparation for this team's visit. When the Canadians arrived in Nicaragua, I would be able to explain some things about the way the León churches are and what they are doing.

Since the idea of my position in Nicaragua is to walk alongside people and facilitate relationships, this project seemed perfect to me. I got to know the churches in León more, and I was with the Canadian team the whole week. They told me that I was more than a translator and guide for them by the end of the week; rather, I was part of the team. For me, this was a clear sign that God was working in this time.

The Canadian team enjoyed a tourist day and some delicious pineapple!

We spent the week visiting the churches, helping in kids' programs, attending church services, and listening to people. The pastors had special visits of sharing and prayer. We participated in regular programs of the church and witnessed what they do on a regular basis. Sometimes the Nicaraguans surprised the Canadians with an invitation to lead an activity, pray, or share some words of greeting. The Canadians handled it very well!

The conversations among the León pastors themselves, as well as with the Canadian team, were beautiful things to witness. Just to have three churches of distinct denominations working together as friends in Christ is a win in Nicaragua. And to add the cross-cultural aspect of a Canadian church is even more exciting. The Holy Spirit is definitely moving in the hearts of these believers!

This past week was my first official experience acting as an interpreter. Although I always felt like I could do better, many people encouraged me and told me that I was doing a great job. Some even told me I was the best interpreter they had heard! Another sign that God's power is perfect in our weakness because I had no way of knowing that this would be a success, but my mind and tongue were capable of going between Spanish and English, and maybe even choosing words with the right sort of baggage.

By the end of the week, no conclusions were reached. We don't know if the partnership will change its label to a friendship or collaboration or anything else. Maybe they will simply define their relationship more carefully. They want to stay in touch, but they didn't come up with anything concrete to do next. However, instead of feeling frustrated, it seemed that all parties were pleased with the opportunity to know each other more, build on a foundation of trust, and spend time with each other. The conversations will continue in the future. Asking beautiful questions together, I am confident that these four churches - through the guidance of the Holy Spirit - will continue to work out a positive relationship. More than that, they are growing in an appreciation of the global Body of Christ which is the Church.

Love, Rain, and Other Good Gifts

On this day of Love and Friendship (as February 14 is called in Nicaragua), I'm quite content. Last night, I went to church at my church. Yes, I've chosen a church here. It's called Comunidad Cristiana Promesa (Promise Christian Community), and it has services on Thursday night and Sunday morning. I love it. Promesa is a place where I feel free to worship God. The preaching comes from an entire passage, not just proof texts for a theme. The people are friendly (though reserved... maybe eventually I'll crack through the surface to have meaningful relationships there). Most importantly, I meet God at Promesa church, and it's an environment where I feel free to truly worship.

Yesterday I had some work to do, but I ran out of things that I could do. So for the afternoon, I was forced to have a long devotional time. I say forced because I was very antsy, but there was nothing else for me to do. When I had a week of silence at Taizé, the sister encouraged us to allow ourselves to be antsy in contemplative times, but to resist the temptation to distract ourselves. So I sat in the backyard yesterday, trying to pray and read the Bible, and wanting to do anything else.

However, these times of quiet contemplation are the most important for me in Nicaragua. I need to be rooted in God's Word, centered on Christ. If all my activism comes from a desire to do something good or fulfill some cosmic purpose and is not motivated by my love for God, it is worthless. I work from a place of anxiety and uncertainty until I surrender all my activities, hopes, and control to Jesus Christ.

Yesterday I was reading in John 13 where Jesus washed the disciples' feet. 

Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper. 

Jesus served from a place of security because he knew his identity in God. From that root grew his act of service. Finding my identity in Christ continues to be an opportunity for growth, to say the least. I am very uncertain of my actions, my clothing, my words because I want to gain the approval of other people. It's not a bad thing to want to avoid offending others - especially in a foreign culture - but I should root my identity in the God who made me just as I am, not in the ads and rules and expectations of the world around me, Christian or not.

Despite my restlessness yesterday, God still spoke to me, still listened to me. I am still learning from him. And then, like dessert for the day, I got to go to Promesa church, which generally sends me home singing and skipping through the street.

The best gift, though, was the rain! Normally, these months in Nicaragua are dry. The rains come in May and end in November, but December through April, it's dry. After 6 weeks here, enduring the heat and dust, my body was longing for rain. I have spent the last two years of my life in the Pacific Northwest, after all. It seemed to rain all the time in BC, and I got used to it. I have been missing rain. 

Last night as I left for church, it was sprinkling a little. Soon after I got into the church doors, it started pouring. We were singing songs while the rain poured down and the fragrance of wet filled the room. It was delightful. I was elated because even though I hadn't been asking God for rain, I had mentioned that I missed it. Mind you, I know that God does not send rain showers for just me specifically. But it was a gift to me nonetheless, and I felt incredibly loved. God's gifts of love are all around us if we only open our eyes and enjoy them. Happy day of love and friendship!

Introductions: Guissel

In this picture of the Cohort of Missioners in Nicaragua (or Caminantes en la Misión, as we call ourselves in Spanish), Guissel is the Central American. Probably self-evident. She is Nicaraguan, but moved to Costa Rica with her mom several years ago. She was involved in a community of intentional living in San José, with Jim and Ruth Padilla-DeBorst. Then she decided to come to Nicaragua to be part of our pilot Cohort program. She started in September, and she just celebrated 6 months in León.

Guissel and I get along well. We like to walk around the city together, drink milkshakes, and sit by the main Cathedral. She only speaks Spanish, so it's good to practice joking around and talking about deeper things with her. Since we're friends, I don't feel scared to express my opinions. She is very open to hearing about other perspectives.

Guissel and I like to joke around and make fun of Mark together. She is reserved in some situations, but I have never felt uncomfortable with her. She is very capable of doing the work with ETU (community development program) and feels comfortable with the community leaders. Guissel's experiences in Costa Rica enrich our experience in Nicaragua. 

 Guissel studied nursing in Costa Rica, but she is in the middle of her studies still. This past month she was basically out of the picture because she was studying for the entrance exam to UNAN, the national university in Nicaragua. She wanted to have the option to study there next year, but now the plans are quite undefined. I didn't have the chance to get to know her in our ETU work, but we relaxed together. When she went to Costa Rica for a week to deal with stuff for her residency card, I missed being able to text her or walk around with her!

 Guissel is a local guide for me. She didn't grow up in León, but she grew up in Nicaragua. When I feel uncertain about what I'm wearing or whether or not to tell someone that I saw a mouse in their kitchen, I ask her. I trust her judgment, but she also assures me. Guissel is very laid-back and not overly concerned about what people think. Because of these characteristics, she encourages me to be myself even though I'm in a foreign culture. She also knows how to shop for favorable prices, how to work a pinata (as pictured above), and how to look for everyday things like laundry soap or chocolate-covered-frozen-bananas = CHOCOBANANO. We like a lot of the same things, so it's fun to go out with her.

Meet Guissel, my fellow Cohort and friend. She helps me learn about God and the world in different ways, and she is guided by love for Christ and others.

Introductions: Mark

I have been wanting to introduce you to my people in Nicaragua, but I have needed time to gather intel. After completing my first month here (wow that went fast!), I finally have some pictures and stories.

This is Mark. He comes from Michigan, a Calvin alum, couple years younger than me. He was the first Cohort. Now we are three (pictured below. I'll introduce Guissel another time) in the Cohort of Missioners program, the only functioning Cohort program currently though Costa Rica, El Salvador, and Guatemala also have programs, just no current participants... So Mark is my guiding star in the world of Cohorts. We work together in ETU, collaborate with Roberto together, and also propose changes and developments to the Cohort program. In other words, we spend a lot of time together.

Mark studied studio art, architecture, and business. He claims to be an aesthetical minimalist, detail-oriented, practical and yet philosophical. We get into discussions over coffee about God and economics, art and people, the church and popular culture.

This guy makes me laugh. Often. We make fun of each other, and he says slang words to me in Spanish that I need to ask him to explain to me (my Nica slang is...rusty at best). And I make fun of him in turn. It's a great teasing relationships. At Roberto's birthday party, we foisted a small child upon him, telling him that he needed practice. His face was priceless.

I appreciate Mark. He helps introduce me to community leaders, collaborates on project ideas, and commiserates on life in Nicaragua. Mark approaches our work with creativity. He has innovative ideas, and with him I feel free to consider wild possibilities for the future of our program. I can count on him to do the tasks he has committed to do. His business sense and straightforward way of planning things helps keep us organized. His sense of humor keeps me on my toes. His honesty refreshes me when I feel uncertain. And his prayers have supported me through this first month in Nicaragua. Mark is seeking God's will in his life, and I'm glad he includes me in his search.

Meet Mark. My Cohort and friend, working in Nicaragua for the glory of God.

Something that Won't Compute

Today was a good day, but it was one where I felt a little needy.A little lonely, a little clingy, a little bit just staring off into space...  My friend, James, can tell you how I am on those days. I used to go over to his place after work on the weekends and be miserable until he fed me chocolate-covered espresso beans and made me laugh. Today there was no real reason to miss home. Just one of those days when I get a little lonely.

I actually spent most of the day with people. My friend and colleague, Mark, and I spent the morning together. We got coffee and breakfast at a great little place near his house, and then we sat in his living room and planned for the future and prayed together. I returned home to eat lunch with my host family and then worked on expense reports for the month of January (I have to file all my costs at the office). Then I went to Gordon and Peggy's house for a spontaneous meeting to discuss our Cohort trip to Guatemala. I ended up leaving around 5, hung out with the family, and then had the house to myself after they went to church.

On lonely days, it's easy to want to distract myself, to shy away from the feeling of missing something or someone. But today I didn't. Instead, I read this:

Love the quick profit, the annual raise, vacation with pay.
Want more of everything made.
Be afraid to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery any more.
Your mind will be punched in a card and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something they will call you.
When they want you to die for profit hey will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something that won't compute.
Love the Lord. Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace the flag.
Hope to live in that free republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot understand.
Praise ignorance,
for what man has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium.
Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest...
(First half of "Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front" by Wendell Berry)

Today, instead of wishing to go home where the loneliness sticks less often (but still hits, nonetheless), I decorated my home. I put up pictures and verses on my walls. I moved into my room really and truly. I prayed, and sat with my feelings. Logically, this is something that does not compute. But it was good. It was, perhaps, a practice in resurrection, as Wendell Berry ends his "Manifesto."

Faithful, so faithful

My previous blog post talked about a hard night. I'm still having trouble sleeping in the new room, but if I can't get used to the light after a week, I'll design a cave for my bed with my architect friend Mark. 

Thank you for your prayers and words of support. So many people have expressed love and support for me! I feel markedly better. Yesterday I was able to go to church, and today I'm fully functioning at work. Just a little congestion and cough are lingering, but that's pretty normal. I believe that God is using all of you to protect and guide me. Thank you for your prayers and support. Trust - along with me - that God is using you! I have seen incredible things in my own life, even as simple as feeling alive again. Jesus Christ is faithful, and he never leaves us alone. You have been the Voice of Love to me. Thanks for letting the Holy Spirit use you.

The Straw that Broke the Camel's Back

Last night, I cried for the first time since coming to Nicaragua. Everyone has bad days, and sometimes it just all comes together like a really bad party. I knew this would come eventually. I didn't expect it to come like this, though.

First, I got a head cold. Congestion, sore throat, head ache, achy muscles, no energy. Whenever I get sick, I get really pathetic. I feel like a helpless child, petulant and pathetic. It doesn't matter that I'm in a different country or outside my comfort zone. The sickness will affect me the same if I'm home or not. I miss my mom, though, because no one can tell how I feel just by looking at me like my mom does. Sometimes she hones in on my sickness before I admit it to myself. So when I feel sick and helpless yet everyone else expects me to shake it off and keep going, I really miss my family.

Then, to make a bad day worse, my host family wanted me to switch rooms. The father went back to the cruise ship where he works yesterday, and he won't be back in Nicaragua until July. So in order to help me feel more comfortable, they wanted me to move to the parents' bedroom, the mom moves in with the daughter, and the boys get their old room back. More privacy with a private bathroom, they said. I told them I would do whatever made them feel more comfortable.

So, sick as a dog, I moved all my stuff into a new room. I really dislike packing and moving. Change in general upsets me, but I knew this one would be coming so I thought I was prepared. Wrong.

It's a lovely room. The private bathroom helps with my pee fright since the other bathroom I used was in the middle of the kitchen. The closet is tall enough for me to hang my clothes up with extra space. It's a beautiful room, and it has a mirror. All things that the other room lacked.

But, it's also got light and noise all night long, also things that the other room lacked. The room is along the entrance to the students' rooms in the back. The dogs run along it and bark. It's closer to the street so I hear revving motorcycles, honking horns, and engine brakes on big trucks. You can see the space at the top of the walls to the outside.

I can also hear everything going on in the house because the walls don't go to the ceiling like the did in the other room. For a girl who is used to no neighbors and a quiet house, this is a challenge, to hear the family all the time now (the other room was more closed off).

This is not an indictment against my host family. I appreciate that they want to give me the best that they have. They are trying to help me be as comfortable as possible (unfortunately we have different comfort priorities). My discomfort is not their fault. It's just a fact of life.

Last night, desperately sick and tired, I lay in bed and cried. I am afraid I won't be able to get used to the noise and light. I often go to bed before the rest of the family, and I can't sleep well until all the lights are out. The room feels enormous to me. I've never had a room this big in my life, and I feel exposed on a bed in the middle of it.

There I was, crying and pathetic, telling God that I was sorry for worrying but also begging him to work a miracle in my brain and help me to sleep in this room over the next six weeks. In the end, I slept under the bed. It was darker, quieter, and cozier. It was actually a pretty good night's sleep.

Then this morning at church, we sang a song taken from a psalm. "Though weeping may last for the night, rejoicing comes in the morning," Psalm 30:5. I gave him my sorrows and sickness last night. I gave him my anxiety and discomfort. I traded them for the joy of the Lord.

Last night I realized I was crying for more than a stupid room change (although being scared of not sleeping well for weeks is a good reason to feel upset). People from my church whom I love have died, and I wasn't there to mourn them. People in my family have received grave medical news, and I can't help them. People in my life whom I love don't know Jesus, and I don't know what to say to them to convince them that God is love and His love transforms everything. Last night was the thing that broke me. Being in a new country, far away, unsure of the future... it's hard.

But joy comes in the morning.

The message this morning in church was about how to receive a miracle. The pastor preached out of 2 Kings 4. A widow owed a lot of money, and she was going to have to sell her sons into slavery to pay the debt. She asked Elijah the prophet for help, and he asked what she had in her house. When she responded that all she had was a little oil, he told her to borrow as many empty jars from her neighbors as she could. Then she filled all those jars with oil that never ran out. When there were no more jars, there was no more oil. She sold the oil to pay her debts, and she and her sons could live on the rest of the profits.

In order to receive a miracle, the pastor said, we need to recognize that we have a need. More than that, we have to recognize that God can fill that need and offer him whatever we have. Here in Nicaragua, there are so many needs. Even my own stupid need for dark and quiet seems an impossibility, let alone the need to rescue children from the streets, to help communities have clean water to drink, to change foreign policies... Today, though, I heard again that God can work miracles. Nothing is impossible with God (Matthew 19:26). Hallelujah!